Home
by Upside-Up
Summary: Robin/Barney. Takes place after Shelter Island. Robin has moved into Ted's place and is having a bit of trouble feeling settled.


Even though she's all moved in to her new apartment, (read: Ted's apartment; read: Lily ad Marshall's old room) and even though she's _home_ and there's the bar and the subway and the street signs are all in English, there's still an emptiness. Though now she has a roommate, she's still going home alone to a bed that's feeling increasingly big and empty and to a wine glass that's starting to seem a little bottomless.

Tonight, she goes home (there's still a pause before that word, she struggles to avoid calling it "Ted's") and her bed looks cold and her merlot looks a little too inviting. Instead of either option she opts for curling up in a ball on the floor in the corner of her new room (_not_ Marshall and Lily's old room) and tries to ignore the reason behind the dull ache that has taken up residence in her chest.

She fails. She knows exactly what's behind it. It's the feeling of rejection, squared. She attempts to convince herself that she's okay, and it's partially true. Living with Ted brings back stark reminders of why she isn't with him anymore: his obsessing over every detail of his relationships, his neuroses, that hair wax, his constant, _constant_ correcting. She tries to think of a nicer term for "dodging a bullet".

It's the second rejection (the one she tries to loosen from its death grip around her heart) that's kind of keeping her from breathing. She's not sure when Barney went from being a mistake, from something that never happened, to... what? What was he to her now, really? Someone she could have a future with? Someone she could rely on? Someone she could- not love but... maybe. She shakes her head when it tries to remind her that he's inside it pretty much constantly.

She feels like an ass. Of course he isn't thinking about her. How could she have expected him to be alone in his room at a yoga retreat that's basically tailor-made for slutty, undersexed housewives? What did she think? That he'd just be waiting for her? Had her day-long flight from Japan made her stupid?

But... she had thought that, hadn't she? Something about how she and Barney had left things makes her think that maybe-

Her thoughts are interrupted by a light rapping on her (not Lily's, not Marshall's) door. She hops to her feet and murmurs a "Just a sec, Ted," before mentally shaking herself and sliding on the mask of contentedness she's gotten used to wearing.

"Come in," and the door gingerly swings open to reveal, not Ted, but the man she'd been failing miserably at not thinking about.

"Hey," he's bashful-Barney tonight, probably come to coyly explain his actions as a segue into _explaining_ his actions. In detail.

She sighs and sits on the edge of her bed, wishing she hadn't forgone the wine and mumbles "Hey, Barney."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, just kind of stares at her like a deer caught in the headlights and she wonders what his angle is.

"You okay?" She knows she's probably feeding into whatever manic game he's about to play, but she can't help herself.

"Um, no, actually," he replies, and something about the honesty in it brings to mind the times they'd be the last at the bar and they'd talk. Actually talk about real things, like how she wonders if the fact that she doesn't miss seeing her parents makes her heartless. Or how he worries, really worries about his mother and her endless grocery list of dangerous habits.

"Oh," she pats the bed beside her and he doesn't sit down. "What's wrong?"

He takes a breath and suddenly, words are tumbling from his mouth as if he has no control; couldn't stop them if he wanted to.

"Okay, so, Lily made me come here. Or, no, she didn't make me come here, she's tiny and it's not like anyone can really _make_ me do anything." He adjusts his tie and looks like he has no clue what else to do with his hands, so he crams them in his pockets, only to remove them again and gesticulate wildly.

"Something Lily said made me come here. It's not like I have much to lose at this point, right? I've pretty much dug my own grave here, and Lily said that I should talk to you. Even though it kind of feels like throwing the first dirt clod on my own coffin. I really didn't mean to come off this morbidly." He looks more agitated than she's used to seeing him and she can't resist the urge to reach out and clasp one of his ever-gesturing hands in her own (she doesn't have much to lose, herself).

For the first time his eyes meet hers and he looks pained, defeated. He finally takes her offer to sit and continues, more quietly and (though it didn't seem possible) more nervously.

"So, I've blown it. And it sucks that I blew it. Even though I probably never had a chance, now it's pretty much a guarantee. But I couldn't let it go without talking to you. Because you're who I talk to. Ted and I are brothers, sure. Marshall and Lily are, you know-"

"-an exclusive, two member club?" Robin offers and Barney smiles wanly, eyes cast on the floor.

"Exactly. So, I'm going to get this out. Because if I was ever to have someone to whom I told everything, it would be you." He looks at her for the second time and she's very aware that he's still holding her hand.

"So here goes." He takes a breath in, and then lets it all out and Robin has never seen him look so overwhelmed. He shakes his head and when his eyes refocus on hers, he looks resolved. She takes a breath and can't remember exactly how to exhale.

"I want... to... wait, no. Okay. You're beautiful. And, I know, you don't need me to tell you that, but I wanted to say it out loud. And you're this strong, smart, sophisticated, hot woman who knows exactly what she wants most of the time, and how to get it. You have great taste in cigars, in scotch, in board games. You have the world in the palm of your hand. But, you know all of that. Or at least, someone has probably told you all of that before. And, yeah, I see it all. It's a little hard to miss. But there's more to you than that."

Robin's throat is constricting and she's clutching his hand like it's a lifeline. She just can't tell if Barney is the helicopter above or the raging waters below.

"There's more. Robin, you came to visit me at the hospital every chance you got. You pick up chicks for me. You scare them away for me. You listen to me talk about my mom and don't make comments about how "un-Barney" I seem when you do. You adjust my tie or pick stray threads off my jacket unprompted. You like that you can still see the last image my TV projected on the back of your eyelids for an hour after it's been turned off. You have this way of drinking my gin and tonic when you've finished your drink and don't want to get up to get another that seems so comfortable it makes me want to kiss you. "

Robin feels her cheeks flush and he smiles at her.

"You do that-" he touches her face "-and it kills me a little."

He lets his hand drop (she kind of misses it) and he's determined again. "So, I'm pretty sure, though it's been a long time, but I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you."

And there it is.

She doesn't let go of his hand; couldn't if she tried. She just stares at him like an idiot as he anxiously continues.

"And I feel like I messed everything up, but I had to tell you. And it's not that fake, 'I-think-fairy-tales-are-real,' Ted kind of love. And I don't want to whisk you away and make you into something you're not so we can be together. I just have this dull pain all the time. It's about a 4 on a scale of ten. It's just there," he points to his solar plexus, "and it goes away when I'm with you. So it makes me want to be with you all the time. And I don't want to transform my whole life, though, granted, parts of it I'd willingly change. And I don't want you to be anything but what you are. I just want to be able to love you in an outright, exposed, reciprocated way."

His voice is filled with emotion and Robin can feel tears welling behind her eyes. She watches as he swallows and notices how drained he looks.

"So, anyway, there that is," he says around the stubborn lump in his throat and slowly pulls his hand from hers, stands.

"So, I'm gonna-" he stops himself before he can say 'go'. "No, wait. Not yet. Can you- Do you…" his shoulders droop. "Could you say something?"

She's crying now and can't help herself. She has no words, no idea what to say after all of that. So she lets her tears fall as she pulls him into a hug that he half-heartedly returns, taking it for a hug of pity; rejection.

Resolute, she pulls back, looks at him in the eyes, fogged with unshed tears, and kisses him.

He's so shocked for a moment, this is so not what he was expecting, that he almost doesn't kiss back. But her lips are on his and her tongue is just barely there and one hand is gripping his tie, the other is in his hair and he pulls her to him by the waist, his free hand at the back of her neck.

And when they part they're laughing and crying and she can't remember feeling like this, ever; like she's really, truly, _home_.


End file.
